The Dividing Line
by AuthorCook
Summary: Prologue for a sevenstory series of OC's in an alternate universe


Author's Note and Disclaimer

As you have probably guessed, I don't own Harry Potter. This is merely my interpretation and portrayal of the deep world that J.K. Rowling dreamed up.

This is an Alternate Universe fiction: I'm using J.K. Rowling's world, but all characters are original.

_**The Dividing Line**_

_By Author-Cook_

Chapter 1: Perspectives

In the very south-eastern corner of England lies a monotonously quiet little town of no name worth remembering. Near to the west of a forest and far to the east of civilization in general, its cracked pavement and dilapidated homes brought no sense of magic or any special impression whatsoever. To Robert Bell, however, that remotest location was a haven. Where others saw numbing obscurity, his eleven-year-old eyes, unclouded by experience or influence, saw the sweetest sort of peaceful isolation.

He could be alone there. Even walking through the middle of the central square brought a sense of solitude, eerie to most yet pleasant to some. It was so much better if he wasn't made to join his fellow boys in their frightful flights of fancy. Why bother with them? Why risk their biting, insignificant scorn?

Only one driving force could motivate him to occasionally straggle along after his mismatched peers; and her name was Kaylie Stanley. The young Robert was a quiet, unintrusive specimen; but when he was with Kaylie he became the adventurous Rob (as she called him), leading her into all manner of worrisome endeavors, be it hiking to the exact center of the nearby forest or journeying to the city unattended.

Robert was far too young to comprehend love in its many facets, but if he could he might say that he loved her; hence the reason for his attempts at following her advice. "Go with them, Rob." She would say. "Friendship isn't _that_ bad, after all."

And so he would run off after them, trying to learn in a day the complex games and jokes developed over years. Every attempt dismayed him more, but if Kaylie be for him, who could stand in his way? He was nothing special, but there was something empowering about her favor.

--

Robert knew, as few others did, that Kaylie was special on an entirely different level: she was quite literally magical. Her parents were sorcerers of some sort; and she, destined to tread the same path. He still fondly remembered the day when he had visited her house and discovered that her tales of wizardry had not been entirely make-believe.

With this delight at her talents came a bitter pit; he knew that because of them he could never be similar to her. She would leave soon, indeed, off to some school to polish her ability. One of his very favorite games of pretend had been that he, too, was magical. But it could never be: his parents were quite possibly the most mundane, unmagical individuals one could ever have the boredom of meeting.

"But that doesn't matter." She would protest steadfastly. "There's always a chance. Always a small chance. Wizards are born from Muggles all the time." Despite her manifold reassurances, Robert knew in his heart that they were not destined to attend Hogwarts together.

Indeed, only one owl flew the skies over the nameless town on that late summer day. Robert and Kaylie sat in their tree together, watching it ride the currents of the wind and dive toward the town, swooping towards the two side-by-side houses near the end of Allenson Street.

And then they were off, leaping from the high branch and dashing down the avenue, following the owl's flight across the cloudless sky. For years afterward Robert never knew exactly what happened next. He had frozen in his tracks as the owl had not halted at the houses but suddenly sped toward them. It dropped a solitary envelope into his hands, and he stared blankly at it, wondering if it might be some mistake.

But sure enough…

_Robert Bell_

_N. 15 Allenson Street_

The next hours blurred together. He vaguely remembered sitting in his room while Kaylie's parents explained the meaning of the letter to his own. Another disturbing memory was that of his friend's tearstained face as she explained to _him_ the other "small chance" of magical genetics. Of this he could remember only the word "squib", and forever after his subconscious connected it with that heart-wrenching memory of Kaylie's expression.

He had never had a bad dream before that night.


End file.
